Marta Perry - Hero in Her Heart

People seemed to swirl through the huge living room and dining room that stretched the entire width of the house. She had a quick impression of comfortably overstuffed furniture and walls crowded with family photos—dozens of family photos.

Gabe was still at her side, and she could feel the solid strength of him through the brush of his arm against hers. She sought for something to say. “You have a big family.”

“You might say that. My parents have five kids, although sometimes it seems like more.”

“And you all live at home?”

Gabe’s eyes flickered with a touch of regret. “I have my own place. I moved home after the accident.”

She added that fact to her mental calculations of the dog who would be best for Gabe, always assuming he stayed with the program long enough to get a dog.

“I guess that seems odd, but my folks are old-fashioned.” He sounded slightly defensive. “They want their kids to live at home until they’re married.”

“Or longer.” The speaker must be one of Gabe’s brothers, since he had the trademark deep blue eyes and black hair. Probably in his mid twenties, he had an engaging liveliness to his face, and he carried a wiggling toddler under one arm. “I thought we’d never get Mary Kate out of the house.” He held out his hand to Nolie. “I’m Ryan.”

“The baby.” A red-haired woman arrived at his elbow. “I’m Mary Kate.” She started to shake hands with Nolie, then abruptly turned away to grab the toddler Ryan was dangling. “How many times have we told you not to hold Davy upside down? You want him to throw up on you? Come help me put a leaf in the table.”

They left before Nolie had a chance to say anything, even assuming she could have thought of something. She glanced at Gabe, to find him watching her with amusement.

“They’re a bit much, I grant you. Mary Kate’s the oldest, and the two red-haired hooligans are hers.” He nodded toward a boy and girl chasing each other. “I’m next, then Seth, then Theresa, then Ryan. The little guy Ryan was holding is Seth’s son, Davy. Don’t worry about remembering their names.”

Because she wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter?

“I don’t want to impose.” What she wanted was to get out of this crowd and back to her quiet house. Alone. “I just needed to get a sense of what your home life was like so that I can choose an appropriate animal.”

“My mother would consider it an insult if you left now.”

He nodded to Siobhan, who was clinking a spoon on a glass. The signal sent her family scurrying to the dining-room table—a long walnut oval covered by a lace tablecloth.

She could guess that Gabe’s opinion didn’t match his mother’s. Still, she needed all the help she could get with the man. If she didn’t win him over—

She stopped that thought before it could take over. She managed a smile and let herself be piloted to a seat.

The man next to her was obviously Gabe’s father, and just as obviously the patriarch of the clan. He sat in a massive chair at the head of the table, watching benevolently as his family took their places.

He didn’t say anything, just waited as they quieted and clasped hands around the table. Before she quite knew how it had happened, Nolie felt her hands held firmly by Gabe’s father on one side and the sister she hadn’t been introduced to on the other—Theresa, she thought.

Mr. Flanagan led them in grace, a very faint Irish accent touching the words of the prayer as it rolled out. His Amen was punctuated by the clatter of dishes.

“Getting us all sorted out yet?” Gabe’s sister, Theresa, had a quick smile. “My father is Joe, and I’m Terry. I’m afraid we can be overwhelming at first glance.”

“And at second,” Ryan added from across the table.

“I think I’m getting there.” She glanced around, sorting out Mary Kate, her husband and children.

Terry grinned. “Mary Kate, Seth and I got Dad’s red hair and freckles, but Seth’s darkened when he grew up. Gabe and Ryan look like Mom.”

She nodded, wondering whether learning their names was of any use. If Gabe had his way, this could be the first and last time she met the Flanagans.

Seth was the solid, calm one, then. He sat next to the toddler, rescuing the teething biscuit the child dropped. “And Davy’s mother?”

Sorrow darkened Terry’s lively face. “She died shortly after he was born. Davy lives here with us.”

The sorrow touched her. “You must be very close.”

“We are that.” Gabe’s father had obviously heard her comment. “Every single one a firefighter, and proud of it.”

She blinked. “You’re all firefighters?”

“Well, not Siobhan. And not Mary Kate, now that she has a family. But her husband filled in for her, didn’t you, Kenny?”

Mary Kate’s husband stopped buttering bread for one of his children to nod, smiling.

“That’s amazing.” Would that make it easier or harder to enlist their aid with Gabe? She didn’t know.

Joe Flanagan shrugged. “It’s what we do. What we were born for. Maybe Gabe most of all.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Gabe is strong as a horse. He’ll be back on the job in no time. I’m not saying anything against this program of yours, but Gabe doesn’t need it.”

“I see.” That seemed to answer the question of whether she could expect any help from Gabe’s family. His father, at least, was just as convinced as Gabe that Nolie was unnecessary.

Her head began to throb from the noise. She glanced at Gabe, wondering how he stood it all.

But Gabe was leaning back in his chair, gesturing with his fork at something one of his brothers had said. His angular face was the most relaxed she’d seen it. His hair, nearly blue-black where the overhead light reflected on it, tumbled onto his forehead a little.

As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her. His face was open to her for just an instant, and her heart seemed to turn over. Her breath caught, and the noise around them faded.

Whoa. She’d better be careful. Because if Gabriel Flanagan looked at her that way too many times, she’d could find herself agreeing with just about anything he said.

By the time supper ended, Gabe was beginning to think he’d never get rid of Nolie Lang. Every member of his family seemed determined to talk to her. He could only hope they were all telling her the same thing he had—that he didn’t need her help. The woman should leave convinced she’d have to find another guinea pig for her experiment.

Judging by the way Nolie’s gaze kept darting toward the door, she was ready to be free of the Flanagans, too, for the moment, at least. Well, he wanted her to be free of them permanently.

He’d steered clear while Mom had showed her the wall full of fire-department photos and citations above the mantel, not wanting to be the subject of his mother’s praises in front of this woman.

But now Ryan joined them, chatting away as if he and Nolie were old friends. Gabe hoped he was reinforcing the family line—Gabe doesn’t need your help. Gabe is fine. Gabe will be back on the job in no time.

Ryan seemed to be turning on an inordinate amount of the Flanagan charm. Now, why was his little brother going to so much trouble? It certainly wasn’t as if Nolie were his type. Ryan might be initially attracted by the long blond hair, but everything else about Nolie would turn him off.

Plain. That was all he could think. She looked as if she hadn’t made the faintest effort—just run in from the barn and tossed on a white shirt and navy blazer. Even his tomboy sister Terry would have done a better job for an important interview.

So what interested Ryan so much? He sauntered closer to find out.